The cycle of symbolic suffering
by Grapenillacupcake
Summary: A symbolism study fic staring the main six magical girls.


The cycle of symbolic suffering.

…

Kaname Madoka.

Pink.

Pink fills the cheeks of young girls in love.

Pink is soft, soft like her heart, soft and tender. Pink is another shade of red, red like her heart, and the true nature of Madoka pumps through her blood.

She cannot hide what flows through her bloodstream. When her arms are slashed from a witches' furious attack, red will flow through.

Red like the ribbons. Childness red ribbons that tie into pigtails. The ribbons will move calmly in the wind. The ribbons on her magical dress may be calm at first, but with battle, determination to rid of evil, they will fly widely.

Arrows, painted pink, strike the heart of the witch. Even in attacking, the pink tipped arrows show the compassion in her motives.

Pink is not a real wavelength of light.

Pink does not technically exist.

Neither does Madoka, but to those who are able to see the glimpse of pink, it is a honor.

…

Akemi Homura.

Black. Purple. White.

Simple colors, all of them. But complicated meanings and symbols.

Her white is like a ghost, disappearing and reappearing at will. It screams for you to step away. Even her brightest color is shielding away, clinical and cold, its' purity being poisoned by purple and black.

Purple adorns not much, but it stands out. From school outfit to magical girl outfit, it is a pure transformation, showing only what the holder wants to show.

Purple was once in her ribbons. Ribbons that held thick, heavy braids. Back when she stammered over her words, back when her heart still thumped faintly, back when her glasses were red, passionate red.

The purple ribbons have since been taken away. She does not need the purple ribbons. They were left behind in a dirty sea of destruction. A girl that is only mourned by Homura floats aimlessly in it.

Now her black hair is free, long and wavy, flowing without any care in the breeze. Her black heels stomp tight over the minions of witches and the body of dead girls. But they are gentle to, flying through the air with planned motions.

Homuras' black bangs hide the unhappiness in her eyes, and they do their best to hide the tears as well.

…

Miki Sayaka.

Blue. Color of calmness, unity, harmony, stability, confidence, and trust.

Her boyish haircut already rebels against those common truths.

Blueness fills her magical girl outfit, hues of it changing from light to dark. Like her soul gem. Like her emotions. Like her morale.

Her blue is passionate, like a crashing wave. It will always turn into a storm, paying no mind to the safety of others. It will run its' course, ready to keep on raging, over something that has been brewing so long.

Her water is clean at first. But the filth creeps in. Things inside the water will die or harden to survive. Those that survive within the water is not what began. They have changed, unrecognizable in the eyes of others.

Cleansing it cannot happen. It will continue to rise, even if hands of multiple people are working to separate the water from the filth, hands filled with concern and love and memories of when it was pure.

Not when two hands are holding each other.

Her yellow hairclip. Happiness, idealism, friendship, hope, jealously, illness, hazard, covet to the core.

The white cape. A hero. A hero that hides herself, covers herself with fictional images and thoughts of protecting her town and getting her true love.

Her white cape disappears, replaced by a metallic monster in the sea.

An european song plays in the distance.

White symbolizes death in Europe, so it's only fitting.

…

Tomoe Mami.

Another yellow. Her hair is curled, stereotypical girl of gold. Like a rich magical girl. The ones' that are rich in power and rich in friends, looking through the monster of the day with calm eyes. Mami copies them.

Her false yellow makes her imagine. Imagine a rainbow of colors, girls with smiling faces, two parents standing above ground, and a dinner for not just one.

She is a polite sun. No one appreciates her, only the duties that she does, keeping everyone warm and safe and alive. She pretends that she doesn't mind, like she pretends with everything.

She is an alone sun. No stars. No planets. Only the distant forms of people she cannot join. She knows the duty she must take on.

But when the rainbow girls really come, of pink and blue and black and the once left behind red, she allows them in. She shines harder for their colors of approval.

The cracks in the mirror finally explode. No longer can she use the magic of hope to maintain the curls.

Cowardice and despair seeps through like blood.

Golden bullets fly through the air. She betrays her rainbow girls. She betrays all those she told herself to protect, because that was her duty. Even when she began to wonder about the point of keeping strangers warm without them even realizing it was her, she kept telling herself that.

A true magical girl until the witch shatters the tropes and brings her into the harsh reality. Even the darker shades of yellow do not fit into this reality.

And so, her fates are slim. Either her curls will be eaten, alone with a brain that can no longer imagine a happy future. Or they will resume their natural form, along with shattered pieces of honey gold.

But for now, she is still pretending. With the colors of red, blue, and purple. Pink does not exist in this rainbow, but Mami is glad with any rainbow given to her.

Desperation and despair go hand and hand together.

…

Sakura Kyouko.

Nothing but red. Red, red, passionate and intense.

Red, red, color of blood that spills from her weapon, spills from her fathers weapon, spills all around her. She is desensitized to the liquid form of red. She embraces it.

Red, red, full of love. She tries to hide her heart between chains, chains to protect herself. But the girl who hopes for love will always manage to remind Kyouko of when she too loved. Loved her family. Her father. Enough to make the wish.

Danger, fire, war, violence, speed, strength, aggression! Kyouko is these things! She is the tough girl, words hot and loud, fangs shining in the unforgiving sun of day. She is the veteran, who has fought a million battles and will continue to do so. She will not win the war but she will have her last laugh!

She will die and become a soldier, soldier of flames! She will continue going for what is right! Even when her views become jaded and incomprehensible to others!

But for now, she dives into dumpsters. Her speed guarantees a stolen meal without much difficulty. Her strength can fight against any other homeless bum for something left behind, a half eaten ice cream cone, a rotten sandwich. Her words scare off girls holding purses, purses full of money, that can buy herself some pocky and a arcade game. To let off steam and pretend to be an average teenager.

Red is supposed to mean happiness in Japan, but Kyouko is proof otherwise.

…

Momoe Nagisa.

Strange thing. Her interactions with us are brief. Her despair is strong and she easily becomes the witch known as Charlotte. I barely know what the colors show of her true self.

But I know she suffers.

I know that she wishes for cheesecake instead of curing her mother because she doesn't understand. She is still innocent and wide-eyed.

But once her mother dies, her soul gem is engulfed in despair. The longest she has gone without becoming a witch was two days.

Her witch. A mix of colors, all bright and shiny like the wrappers of an candy. I've seen it a million times, seen the bright and dark shades all over her barrier, but I cannot tell what is hiding inside of that girl.

Forever she will be a mystery to me.

I wonder if thats' what she wants

…

Me.

Kyubey.

I am a Assistant Kyubey. I am an assistant to the main Kyubey who controls the artificial copies of itself. The main Kyubey I'm assigned to is stationed in all magical girls who contract in Mitakihara town.

The town where Akemi Homura continues to reset time.

I do not know why, but I am the only one other then her that retains my memories after she resets time. For so many years, we've been forced to watch the same people die over and over, make the same mistakes, and watch the same witch named Walpurgisnacht destroy everything she can.

We're alike, she and I.

I have gained emotions through the constant reloops.

She has lost her emotions through the constant reloops.

I've tried telling the others of this fact. But no one believes me. I have been locked up for being mentally unstable, just for having emotions, for having empathy.

Now I stay quiet and watch.

And I find the meanings in their colors. In their hairstyles. In their outfits. Its' rather... fun, to pull meaning out of what was once thought to just be randomized.

But it appears, for once, the loops have stopped. Now magical girls fight wraiths. Now Kaname Madoka is God. She exists everywhere and nowhere in an single instant.

Akemi Homura.

Passionate red has once again joined Homura, in the form of the same ribbons Madoka once wore. An ancient relic of both Madoka and the shy girl named Akemi Homura that would have worn these ribbons.

No more mature guns and bombs and bullets and rockets.

An bow. Like Madokas'. But it is purple, diamond studded, and the arrows are electric. They flash out bright purple. A negotiation. Grown up, with childhood still gripping on, trying to find familiarity.

The wings of energy. You need them to keep yourself going, huh, Homura? They are angelic, white and pure.

But they are also demonic. With twisted, incomprehensible colors mixed in.

I have a terrible feeling this is foreshadowing an terrible event. A awful, despair inducing event.

I'll keep on watching. It is my job to watch.

It is Homuras' job to continue onward, remember, and fight for everyone.

It is Madokas' job to flicker through reality, saving those who can no longer continue onward or remember or fight for anyone.

It is Sayaka's' job to pretend she can do what the others do, and remind others of the person they once were.

It is Kyoko's' job to be the rough veteran, to needlessly fight and bring magical girls back into the harsh reality of the world.

It is Mamis' job to be the kind veteran, feeding her underclassmen lies of the supposed honor and joy that comes with being an magical girl, words as sweet as her tea and cake.

It is Nagisa's' job to be a mystery. And to eat cheese and sweets.

This is the circle that, even if we grow tired and angry, we must follow through. There is nothing else we can do.

Unless the devil comes out of the shadows, plucks the forbidden apple of happiness and feeds it to the Goddess.

But that won't happen. I'm sure of it(?).


End file.
